Chickin Of Deth

There were a few at the bar but they were all gunned down by a small green chicken with a human skull-head. Harry and Marty and Leon all lay bleeding as the chicken stood silhouetted in the doorway, pistols smoking, small cowboy hat atop his ivory white skull.

His next stop was the gas station and he blew away a Hollywood type gassing up his fancy sports car and then took out Dan at the register. His little chicken feet pitter-pattered across the street to the barbeque joint. There was some commotion when they saw him and the patrons scattered but no one made it out alive.

He was out of bullets, walking alone down the sidewalk when an owl swooped down and knocked his cowboy hat off. In his fury, he threw one of his pistols up at the bird and knocked it out of the sky.

Then he calmly placed his hat back on his skull-head and retrieved the gun.

Soon he was back in his hide-out cave. He absentmindedly watched the news on an old black and white TV as he reloaded his pistols. Some camera crews and reporters had made it to the bar. They showed an artist’s rendering of the chicken’s likeness on the screen, titled “Chicken of Death”. He marveled at its accuracy. Then he went out to the bar and shot up the news crew. This quickly escalated into a bloody shoot-out with police. A few bullets pinged off the side of the chicken’s hard head and he lost some green feathers. But for the police force the casualties were far worse. The entire squad lay scattered and gushing blood from tiny bullet holes.

Then the chicken decided to head uptown. He met an orange-haired prostitute on the way who trailed after him. “Hey, didn’t I just see you on the news?” she asked. The chicken tried to ignore her. “Yeah, that was you- I recognize yer skull!”

He turned to glare at her with his dark, empty sockets.

“You on yer way to kill some more people?” she went on, stumbling along behind him.

“What do you think?” he said, quickening his pace until she gave up following him. She watched him as he strutted on, finally turning the corner down on Seventh. As shots rang out from over by the car wash, she shook her head and turned around, walking slowly back to her post. On the way she found a green feather and she stuck it in her hair, a big smile lighting up her pretty face like it was Christmas.